Good Company
by Falling For Kames
Summary: There's a difference between me knowing that you're staring at me and me actually taking the time to stare right back at you. Slash and mentions of sexual activity. Contains Kames, Kogan, Jagan, Kendall/OC, and several future ships. Rated T for language.


**Hello, internet! **

**So I wrote this a while ago, and I definitely plan on making this into a story. **

**Warning: there are several ships that will most likely being canon for either a short time or throughout a good bit of the story, so please be open. I do want to say, though, that I am very welcoming of power to the reader, so feel free to request that a certain ship or character enter the story at anytime. There _will_ be straight couples, too.**

**Please enjoy and review!**

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Was he crying?

No. Not today.

Logan licked his bottom lip inconspicuously as he peered over the rim of an old mandatory Forbes read, chocolate orbs burning holes into his friend's midriff.

_No, no, no, Kendall. No nads showing for everyone to see. Just for me, Babe, just for me. _

The rowan was somewhere between articulate blinking and muddled photo-carding for his future endeavors. He felt like an old coupon lady saving up all the reserves her newspaper clippings could get her, hoarding the trash for hopeful rivals.

His friend's hips did some queer portrayal of _lying_, and Logan nearly barfed rainbows and unicorn shits across Whitney Houston's old, used up, _dead ass _face; he _almost _felt resentful as he flipped the page to another bagged-up riff on Miley Cyrus' twerking prerogative at the VMAs.

Sand echoed sunlight nonchalantly across his endearing friend's figure, causing the nearly sick rowan to sweat just a little heavier through his wife beater.

Kendall's lips pursed as he capered up and down the oceanfront and swatted at a volleyball hysterically, a fucking _fedora _on his head in the profundity of possibly the lengthiest and fieriest day of their beach vacation.

Sniveling desperately, Logan observed his best friend's lips keenly and stroked an erect thumb across his own bottom lip. He could envision just slaying those charming puckers of Kendall's with his own, and the rowan clobbered the air subconsciously.

One would feel expansive pity for the approbation Logan exposed for his best friend, if it weren't for the fact that, less than twenty meters away, a second sweltering, perturbed man leaned forward in the sand, drool dribbling off of his lip.

James smiled lightly as he pinched his inner thighs through his swim trunks, Kendall's golden, sweat-trodden hair slumping around atop his head as he treaded back to serve the ball again.

_Fuck yes, run those cute little fingers through your hair again. Fuck yes. _

Eyes hooded and mouth watering, the brunet watched Kendall wipe at a cluster of beaded sweat on his scalp, fingers blithely curling into the glossy blonde strands.

Besides his scalp-fetish, James couldn't help but watch Kendall's flexing muscles as he stepped off to take a break. But the blond's hand pulled up to once again card through his hair, and James whimpered and palmed his groin inconspicuously.

His toes curled into the beach subliminally when Kendall's perky emerald gaze flickered towards him and then toward Logan, the rowan unconsciously copying James in time. The brunet narrowed his gaze across the sand to watch a supposedly 'preoccupied' Logan, who, in reality, was only preoccupied by his roaming eyes devouring Kendall's frame, not the Forbes magazine in his hand.

James grunted and shifted backwards a bit to glare at his rowan bandmate, and his sugary teeth turned sour as he snarled brutishly. Eyes remaining shifty, he turned back to the object of his secret affection, waving torpidly and hopefully at the sweet blonde across the sea line; Kendall waved back with a nod of his head before returning to his game with another beachgoer.

James sighed. He could remember the first couple of months after they had officially been recognized as a band, and the miserable interviews they had cycled through almost made him want to sob endlessly.

He remembered being pressed close to Kendall on the couches of several low-priority magazine interviews; the squeeze against the other three boys wasn't terrible, as they were all young, therefore their frames were less bold. But Kendall's smell almost had him gagging every single time he had to be pressed against the blonde, as the smell of organic cereal and over-doused cologne was remarkably overwhelming.

As time went on, though, James became accustomed to the smell. He even began leaning further into his bandmate subconsciously, taking in the rich smells of cinnamon and vanilla and lavender and _just Kendall_ greedily.

And when the first tour was over, he had no idea how one of Kendall's shirts mysteriously disappeared from the blond's suitcase when Kendall called, but James knew exactly where it had went when he was sniffing it and rubbing off to the smell of it.

Then Kendall got a haircut, and suddenly _more _of Kendall's sweatshirts kept going missing, James admiring the way that the blonde shed like an animal as he collected little pricks of golden hair out of the hood of Kendall's hoodie.

After that, Kendall was the last one to turn twenty-one, meaning that the blonde drank like a sailor, and he would get so drunk that he put out with a groupie every other night. Suddenly, Kendall was calling asking if James knew where all of his creamed underwear was going and why there was a lack of undergarments for when he _wasn't _banging Cynthia or Emily or Vanessa. James would just stutter out an 'I don't know' or a weak 'check to make sure you're not wearing them right now'.

James had never even thought about taking a chance with openly admiring Kendall from afar like he was right then, until the blonde began talking about a 'Taylor'. To begin with, the brunet figured she was a groupie that he was getting serious with, but he would act weird when he spoke about her. The blond would mumble at his feet as he spoke and then cast a glance toward Dustin, who would cough and look away awkwardly.

It wasn't until sometime near Kendall's twenty-second birthday that it occurred to James that Taylor definitely was not a normal groupie. Taylor was a _guy_.

Now, James was not just going to come up to Kendall and kiss him or tell him that he was jacking off to the man's sweatshirts, yet, upon hearing the information that Kendall may be _gay, _James was interested.

Then James began to think. It may have just been one of those 'Oh, I'm actually just _Taylor_sexual' instances and both Kendall and Taylor would laugh their asses off and kick their noble dust in the brunet's face.

Soon James was following Kendall pretty much everywhere just to see this 'Taylor' dude, and, eventually, the brunet saw him.

It was after a day of shooting for the third season of the show, and Kendall had put on one of his rather heavy wool jackets; it was only March in LA. Absolutely no reason to wear a coat, much less a wool one.

James watched the blond exit the back door of the stage and cast a glance toward Scott, the preoccupied Logan and Carlos, and an annoyed Halston, who chomped on a piece of gum in the corner of the main hallway; he made a quick dash before anyone could notice him.

It was a lengthy trek across the lot, the brunet eventually forgetting the need to stay undercover as he watched as the back of Kendall's hair bounced with his heavy steps. James smiled fondly at the glistening of his friend's golden hair in the waning sunlight. He greatly appreciated the low hanging skinny jeans, too.

Kendall took a sharp turn as soon as they exited the lot, and soon they were both descending down a grimy staircase into what looked like a really toned down gay bar. James suppressed a laugh.

He instantly found himself lost as he watched Kendall dive into the crowd, and James rolled his eyes at the guys that gave him a smirk and hiked their own shirts up a bit on their midriff. Snorting, James aggressively pushed through the mildly tight space until he spotted the only man he would ever find so attractive in a gay bar- or anywhere.

Moving his eyes to the man across from Kendall, James scowled. The man had feathery brown hair and looked like he had the same build as Kendall, and his eyes rested on the blond's face with a smirk as they presumably sat in silence.

The table they sat at was narrow, and James definitely did not miss when Taylor's long arm took advantage of that fact to settle itself on Kendall's thigh. Kendall smiled and outstretched his leg for Taylor's exploration.

Biting his lip, James blushed furiously in both embarrassment and slight jealousy, and decided to intervene before he threw up.

Taylor's face was smug and leaning toward Kendall when James interrupted.

"Hey, Kendall." The brunet settled a heavy hand on his bandmate's shoulder, thumb pressed into his collarbone.

Kendall stared up at James in shock, leg kicking out to get Taylor to act normal.

"And you must be… Taylor, is it?" Taylor smiled widely up at James, hiding any sense of embarrassment or improvisation that James was expecting from Kendall's man groupie. "Didn't know you would skip out on boning Emily for this, Kendall. Must be serious."

The blond's mouth opened and he rubbed his leg nervously. "James, I- How- Why did you follow me, James?" Sputtering, Kendall gained a bit of authority in his tone.

"Just wandering and crossed this fine establishment. After heading by Victoria's-"

"James, seriously."

"You know, they have the exact same wool coat there! Almost bought it, too. But I guess you have it. And your boyfriend, of course, Taylor." James smiled and picked at a blonde prick of hair in his friend's wool coat, hand lingering on Kendall's chest for longer than intended. Taylor's tension radiated from the other side of the table.

"Yeah, Kendall and I were kind of hoping for a private date here, Jason," Taylor said as he began to rise in his seat threateningly. His blue eyes narrowed and he sat back.

Quirking an eyebrow, James shrugged and shifted his gaze to smile affectionately at Kendall, hand rubbing hard, tight circles up and down his bandmate's side. Kendall looked both confused and mortified.

James' hand raised to rub a thumb across Kendall's flushed cheek and file his fingers through the blond's shimmering golden hair.

"You should get out, asshole," Taylor growled as he stood to threaten James, only tall enough to face the brunet's shoulder. James laughed and lowered his hand to gently press his fingertips to Kendall's midriff.

"And you should get that money out of Blondie's G-string, eh?" A snarky James replied, smirking at the smaller boy. Taylor's anger faltered.

"James-"

"Not so tough anymore, Taylor?

Kendall sighed loudly and grabbed James' wrist, standing up awkwardly between his boyfriend and his bandmate. His gaze lowered to stare solemnly at James' belt and then shifted to gaze at Taylor through his eyelashes.

"We're gonna go. See you sometime, I guess." The blond glanced at a frustrated James, who loomed steadily beside him. Hesitating, Kendall leaned toward Taylor; he was caught short as James panicked and pulled Kendall back. Taylor rolled his eyes and quickly stepped forward to kiss his partner's cheek.

Without a word, the two bandmates turned toward the door, Kendall glancing at James insecurely.

As they stepped back out onto the sidewalk, the blond's step faltered. "James?"

"Hm?" James answered as he walked quickly toward Paramount, and Kendall's eyebrows furrowed in embarrassment.

"Don't tell Logan about this, okay? I just- Don't tell him. You can tell Carlos and whomever you need to- J-just not Logan, okay?"

James stared at him almost sadly, his eyes moving away from his blonde bandmate to focus on a streetlamp. "Yeah, okay."

Yet, a few months later, Logan was told of Kendall's gay fling, and Logan was unbelievably moved.

Sure, Kendall hated James for the next month and a half, the hardest month and a half of James' life, but James _had _to know why Logan would care so much about Kendall's boyfriend. Maybe telling Logan was not the absolute most efficient way of finding out.

"Heyyyyy Logan." James drew out his greeting as he stepped into Logan's bubble, their chests nearly touching as James blocked his friend's way. Logan glared at him.

"What do you want this time, James?" He huffed and eyed his brunet friend; his chocolate orbs revealed more to James than Logan was showing.

Smiling, James wrapped an arm around Logan's waist and guided him to the band's mini fridge. James' index finger lifted and settled on a picture of Kendall, the boy's shimmering blonde hair darkening under James' finger.

"Buddy here has sugar, Logan," James informed the rowan. Logan just shrugged stiffly in his friend's grasp.

"And?"

"Kendall isn't up for you knowing. Carlos can know, I can know, but you, you can't." The brunet eyed Logan and lightened his grip on his waist. A silence enveloped the room with the exception of Logan's heavy mouth breathing.

"Then why exactly are you telling me this?"

James sighed loudly, exasperated. "He seemed really, _really_ bothered about telling you."

Logan was silent.

"Logan, his chick is a dude."

Logan blanched.

For the rest of the week, Logan sulked silently in his bunk and even skipped a few lucky nights with one of the groupies; no one was up for fun when Emily dropped by, and she was sent home an angry groupie.

With Kendall's eye on Taylor, James' eye on Kendall, Logan's eye on Kendall, and Carlos' eye on Alexa Vega, there was an outbreak of free time, and James' spent that time listening to Kendall play Incubus through the wall and thinking about everything. And then it finally dawned on James.

Problem. Both James and Logan had a thing for Kendall.

It took James long enough. And, sure, "Drive" was not exactly soothing his need for Kendall as the promises depicted in such a _Kendall_ song killed the brunet just a little bit inside. The idea of Kendall singing the song to Logan almost made James choke on his Hot Pocket, or maybe it was the fact that the Hot Pocket was a fucking _hot _Hot Pocket, and he _almost _cried whenever Logan and Kendall were together.

The next two months were consumed by Owl City, OneRepublic, and hidden microphones in Kendall's room in desperation for eternal "Collie Man" recordings and Kendall's self-preaching.

And then, after two months, _Taylor happened._

It was an ordinary resting day for the boys, with Logan his usual horny self on the balcony getting turned on by clouds, the sun, etcetera, etcetera, Carlos blazing across Hollywood looking for Alexa Vega, James clawing at the wall to the beat of Kendall's old YouTube covers, and Kendall in his bedroom being great.

"James!" Logan's smooth voice rang annoyingly from the main room; the brunet's eyes narrowed and he stood up to see why the rowan's disgusting mouth-breathing got louder.

James padded angrily out into the den, scowl remaining on his features.

"Taylor?" After actually paying attention enough to the scene in the living room, James could see that plainly, right on the den rug, was fucking _Taylor._ The brunet swallowed his vomit to meet Kendall's partner's gaze, Logan's rivalry long forgotten.

"Here to stretch Blondie's G-string a li-"

"Ken!" Taylor interrupted with a squeaky greeting directed toward the figure behind James. The brunet frowned deeply at nothing in particular; Logan bit his lip and for once he and James were thinking the same thing: _Get this fucking dickwad out of my house._

A shuffling sounded behind James and he knew that Taylor and Kendall were hugging; Logan's face was like a monitor as it contorted in hopelessness. James grunted and stepped up to his rival.

They stared into each other's eyes for a moment and James almost cried _for _Logan; the brunet stepped to his bandmate's side and turned around, his arm slipping around Logan's waist tightly to comfort him.

Kendall's eyes flickered open abruptly over Taylor's shoulder as he realized Logan was in the room, and his gaze fell to stare at James' and Logan's connected waists in confusion. James smiled lightly.

"Well, well, Kendall. Logie doesn't see anything. Promise." James glanced smugly between a bewildered Taylor, a guilty Kendall, and a crestfallen Logan. When Logan's gaze moved to meet Kendall's, the brunet actually did not want to break the eye lock, but it was hurting him too much.

James laughed nervously and turned Logan toward the balcony, the brunet's hazel gaze tossed behind him to meet Kendall's blank stare; they inspected each other for an extended second, James' eyes wide and Kendall's bright emerald gaze irresolute. The brunet coughed and slipped his hand around Logan's wrist, hurtling them onto the balcony.

His mouth was wide, Logan's, as if he were planning to say something, but it closed before James could expect anything. Hissing, the brunet looked wildly and sourly around the porch before bitch slapping Logan across the cheek.

"Who gives a shit about Kendall?" was all James nearly yelled as he threw his hands up in the air exasperatedly, and Logan's gaze met the brunet's.

"You do, James." The rowan blinked and James sighed.

"Yeah." James finally responded and stared over the balcony railing to trace the outline of the horizon; Logan's arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders and they stood together in silence. "We are so gay."

Not long after that James was stationed safely back in his room, scratching the wall miserably. _Fucking Kendall and his goddamn fucking- his fucking- his- sublimity, purity-_

"_Taylor_, stop!" A harsh whisper from Kendall's room perked James' interest and the brunet coughed at the following moan that came from _someone_.

James could guess that Kendall did not want anyone to hear him, but he definitely was failing at that; maybe it was the fact that James had his ear shoved against the blond's door though.

"You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do this." A slurred voice sounded and James nearly threw up; there was no way Kendall was going to put out with Taylor before James was able to stop him from putting out with just _girls._ The brunet hissed against the wood of the door hopelessly.

Kendall's short breathing became louder and James knew Taylor was touching the blond's confidentials. Shifting against the door, the brunet clawed at the carpet beneath him, Taylor's giggling ringing in his brain excruciatingly.

He desperately wanted, _needed_, to bust the door down and beat the shit out of Taylor, and, maybe, possibly, stick his own dick in his bandmate, but he was not too sure that would be successful. The brunet stood up and paused to place his hand on the door knob, frowning momentarily. Sighing, James all but sprinted to the balcony to fetch Logan, who was cradling himself with a spark of sadness radiating in his aura.

"Hey, buddy." James stopped anxiously to tap the ticking time bomb in the lounge chair, and he shifted from foot to foot in a hurry. "So, uh, Kendall is, uh, hm, being fondled?" he said, the information more of a sickening, muted question in the brunet's throat.

Logan grunted absently and picked at his board shorts. "You can get it."

The simple response was a complete blow to James' hope, but the brunet lunged forward to settle in front of his bandmate, hands instinctively rubbing Logan's legs comfortingly and desperately.

"What the _heckie_ are you even trying to achieve by doing this _bullshit_, Logan?" James snorted at his bandmate, slamming a hand down on the rowan's knee in a caprice of sadness to anger. "Because even if we're rivals, Kendall is still both of our interests."

Logan narrowed his eyes at the brunet in distorted ambivalence. He was not quite sure what was even going on and why James was slipping his forefingers into the lips of the legs of the rowan's board shorts, but it felt somehow _okay._

They both exchanged a questionable stare before James stood quickly.

"Let's go get our little Strawberry Bubblegum!" The brunet smiled widely and did some crooked twirl in the air as he danced his way back into the house; Logan rolled his eyes and bit his lip as he stepped timidly closer to the erotic hell zone that was Kendall's already musky and muggy bedroom.

A cloud formed around the two men as they stood close to each other outside their friend's door. Soft breathing seemed to come from the far side of Kendall's room.

"You _really _need to stop listening to Timberlake, man." Logan hissed quietly as he had to hold back the urge to cry and hold onto James' bicep instinctively. A light grin held James into the air as he whispered lyrics to "Strawberry Bubblegum" under his breath.

The brunet scoffed absentmindedly as his gaze remained on Kendall's decorated door, and they advanced on the erotic room. "I'll do nothing of the sort, 'Bear." Logan frowned and bit his tongue as he fell out of step with James; he hid behind the brunet almost as they were within a foot of the door.

Casting a glance behind them, James' hand raised to gently grasp the doorknob, reluctant hazel eyes casting back at Logan, down the hall, and back at the doorknob; Logan absentmindedly gripped the slack in James' shirt and bit his bottom lip crookedly, toes curling into the carpet. And suddenly, James was laughing.

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**Told you all I had more shit to post. I hope you liked it. **

**Please follow, fave, and review! Reviews are love!**

**-Pey-**


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